


Oh, Baby!

by LightningFlash



Series: Oneshots [1]
Category: Jane and the Dragon
Genre: Babies, Future Fic, Gen, Happy families, Old work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 22:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15350025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningFlash/pseuds/LightningFlash
Summary: There's a baby missing at the castle, and Gunther couldn't care less. It's just his luck then, that he's the one to find her.





	Oh, Baby!

**Author's Note:**

> Jane and the Dragon belongs to Martin Baynton, Weta and Nelvana.  
> Beta'ed by Windwraith.  
> This is an old piece which I originally published on FF.net in '07 (eesh.)  
> Please enjoy it for what it is.

It was a mild Spring day, and Gunther was trying to take a quick nap in one of his favourite nooks, nestled in the battlements near Smithy’s chimney. It was warm with the cast-off heat of Smithy’s forge, although he sometimes left it smelling of smoke, and kept him hidden from sight from the yard. He had found it years ago when he’d been too sore and tired from a day spent unloading cargo from one of his father’s ships to train, and had returned to it quite often since then.

His attempt to rest this morning, however, was interrupted when a loud cry issued from the kitchen, followed by more raised voices. Evidently Pepper and Rake had lost their baby girl, _again_. Gunther couldn’t quite recall her given name, but she’d been dubbed ‘Baby Carrot’ by her parents and their friends, although Gunther could not for the life of him think why. 

He sat up with a groan, as there was no sense in trying to hide when the whole castle would be searched, and almost all the castle staff knew the location of his favourite hide-away by now. He made his way down to the table by the kitchen, intending to do as he always did in this situation; keep to himself and try to look busy until someone yelled that they’d found her, as they always did, normally happily playing in --and often eating-- the dirt somewhere. 

All of the staff were already there, as well as Jane, and Dragon perched on the outer wall, snoozing. 

“Lucky lizard,” muttered Gunther as he passed.

“I left her with Rake,” Pepper was sniffling indignantly as Jester tried to placate her, her arms held protectively around the stomach that was already swelling with a second child.

“And I found some weeds around the new willow tree I planted. I only turned my back for a moment, but . . . .” Rake wrung his hands nervously. “I searched and searched, but she could be anywhere by now!”

Pepper wailed miserably, and Rake jumped.

“I-I-I shall search the vegetable garden,” he said, making for the nearest pumpkin patch.

“Be careful that you do not find some weeds, and forget what you are really looking for!” Pepper called after him, balling her fists.

Uttering soothing words and rubbing the cook’s back, Jester led her down into the kitchen.

“Alright,” said Jane, with just the barest of sighs. “Smithy, you search the yard and stables, Dragon and I will scout around the royal gardens, and Gunther, you—“

“Will search outside the castle walls.” Gunther cut her off. “If she has been gone as long as Rake makes it sound, then she may have made it out the gate.” He turned before Jane could protest, flicked his hand in parting, and strolled towards the castle gate, occasionally glancing around.

He couldn’t muster any concern, or anything beyond indifference, tinged with annoyance. This had become a regular event at the castle ever since the child had learned to walk.

He had never quite understood what all the fuss was about, anyway. It was just a baby, and those were as common as fleas. He couldn’t see anything particularly special about this one. Besides, he could not recall anyone ever fussing over him when he was a child, and he had managed just fine.

“I’ve been training for years to become a knight, but they let just anyone become parents,” he muttered to himself as he turned outside the gates and began making his way along the bottom of the wall. “What on Earth do they plan to do with _two_ brats?”

As he walked, Gunther made occasional checks of the defensive ditch dug against the wall. It was quite deep, and although normally dry, a recent burst of heavy rainfall meant that there was a small pool of water sitting in the bottom. The sides were muddy, with the occasional hazardous-looking object jutting out to deter thieves and invading armies, though they hadn’t had any problems with those in recent times. 

Although he doubted the baby had even left the safety of the castle walls Jane was circling the skies above, and he’d never hear the end of her lectures if he didn’t at least _look_ like he was searching.

Gunther wrinkled his nose in slight distaste at the green-tinged muck, and shifted his gaze towards the trees that lined the path into town. He was contemplating abandoning the search to the others as soon as Jane was out of sight, and making his way to the docks, to see what news he could pick up, when a delighted peal of laughter rang out.

He paused, sighed, and followed the sound back to the ditch, where several moments of close scrutiny revealed a very dirty toddler perched halfway down the wall, where she was making a pile of mud. Unsure of what to do next, Gunther was about to yell and alert the others when the child sat back, evidently to admire her handiwork, saw him, and began to stand, arms extended. In a heartbeat, her footing gave way, and with a startled yell she began tumbling and sliding to the bottom of the ditch, where she landed face-first with a splash.

Gunther had pulled off his sword belt and doublet before she’d hit the bottom, and followed her with a curse, trying to stay upright while making his way towards her as quickly as possible. A quick glance told him that she was thrashing around in the water, but hadn’t raised her head. Cursing again, Gunther made a quick calculation and jumped the rest of the distance to the bottom, landing about a meter away from the struggling toddler and hitting the ground hard, sliding onto his knees.

Jarred and covered with mud, he quickly crawled to the child and pulled her out of the water. Unsure what to do next, he sat her on his lap, patting her back. She coughed, then vomited muddy water over his already filthy shirt.

Gunther closed his eyes and sighed again, snapping them open and jumping slightly when the little girl began wailing. The noise was ear-splitting, and Gunther could feel a headache forming.

“Uh, there there?” He said uncertainly, attempting to bounce her up and down as he had seen her mother doing occasionally. “Who is a good, _quiet_ child, then?” 

He studied the child as he tried to comfort her, trying and failing to understand the compulsion to spoil her that everyone else in the castle seemed to suffer from. What would his father have thought if Gunther had gotten into a situation like this as a child, the young man wondered, before grimacing at the possible answers and turning his attention back to the task at hand.

“Baby Carrot, was it?” He made a noise of disgust. Under the layer of mud and grime that currently covered her face, he was quite certain she was more red than orange.

As her cries intensified, Gunther decided that her name was the least of his worries. He looked back up at the slippery mud wall, frowning as he tried to think over the noise and the pain growing in the front of his skull. He’d have to get them out of here himself, rather than call for help. The idea of Jane laughing down at him as he sat covered in sludge and baby drool felt worse than the chunk of mud currently sliding down his neck.

“Alright, Shorty,” he muttered, deciding on a strategy. 

Prising himself free of the girl’s surprisingly strong grip, he held her with one arm and struggled out of his long sleeved shirt with the other, switching arms halfway. Now bare to the waist, he tied the sleeves loosely around his neck and tucked the bottom of the shirt into his belt, creating a make-shift sling. Tucking the girl in, he supported her with one hand and used the other to balance himself as he slowly began to stand.

Intrigued by these new events, Baby Carrot’s screams subsided to hiccups, and Gunther shuddered as her cold wet hands clutched at his bare skin.

“Alright, Miss Vegetable,” muttered Gunther, taking the first, careful step up the incline, his fingers searching for something to hold. “No wriggling around until we get to the top.”

The baby cooed in reply, placing one grubby forefinger into her mouth and sucking away contentedly.

The journey to the top was long and trying, full of slips and re-starts, and what small amounts of him weren’t covered with mud were coated liberally with green scum, but Carrot continued to coo, apparently enjoying the bumpy trip, and Gunther supposed that as long as she didn’t start screaming again, he’d take the rest in stride. If he was completely honest with himself, he might even admit that playing in the mud was a rather fun new experience, although of course _playing_ was not the right word. His quiet enjoyment of the situation lasted right up until the moment when he slipped in the slick mud and felt the teeth of some sharp, metal object bite into his side. 

His pained grunt caught the attention of his passenger, and her eyes began filling with tears. Gunther attempted to turn his grimace into a grin, and patted her with the hand that shielded and supported her, gripping at the mud with the other.

“Silly me,” he said, gritting his teeth and attempting not to hiss as he lifted himself off the trap. “There we go, all better now. Don’t cry. There there.”

He continued to talk, feeling like a complete fool as he searched for safe things to say. Pepper’s gratitude would be short-lived if her child’s first words were curses. 

Gunther grunted again as he took another jarring slip, his side throbbing. He spat, checked the baby, and struggled forward again.

“I think I know a good rhyme, if I could just remember it. Sir Ivon taught it to me. Something about farmers’ lads and milkmaids . . . .” He glanced at the innocent face currently cradled between him and the ground, and shook his head. “Then again, perhaps I know one about daisies and . . . happy, sunshiney days . . . .” He trailed off again, this time in shock as his hand reached over the edge of the ditch. “Ha! Finally!” 

With a final push of his legs, Gunther hauled them both onto firmer ground before flopping onto his back, baby pressed against his stomach as he gasped for breath.

“We made it, Brat,” he told her, pulling her free of the ruined shirt and discarding it. Reaching for his doublet, he used a corner of the quilted fabric to wipe the mud from her face. “Definitely not orange.” He confirmed.

Scooping up his sword belt, Gunther stood, wrapping Carrot in the doublet as best he could, and resting her against his uninjured side.

“Shall we go and see what your parents have to say about all this mud?” he asked her, feeling a good deal more cheerful now they were clear of the ditch. 

He set off towards the castle gate, waving to Dragon as the giant lizard flew overhead, before wincing at the pain in his side. He caught a flash of red as Jane peered past Dragon’s neck, and then the duo began descending into the castle yard.

Gunther’s discomfort hadn’t gone unnoticed, however, as a small hand reached up to touch his cheek, before tugging at his lip. Now that the euphoria of freedom had passed and the pain in his side had settled in, some of Gunther’s earlier annoyance returned. He gave the child a side-long look as he freed his face, but let her hold his finger, all the same.

“You really are more trouble than you are worth,” he told her, not really meaning it, and surprised to realise that. “Well . . .” he paused, clearing his throat. “Perhaps it is the fault of all those fools, getting excited every time you so much as . . .” another pause. “Sneeze.”

As if on queue, the little girl did just that, and Gunther closed his eyes as another slimy substance was added to the collection that already coated him. 

“That was hardly the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen,” he told her as she giggled, but he couldn’t quite stop a small smile.

He recalled the day that Pepper had let it slip that she and Rake were having a child, and rolled his eyes at the memory. The day that Pepper had gone into labour, he and Ivon had disappeared down to the pub for a ‘celebratory’ round or two. By the time they returned all the bother was over and they had been able to sleep soundly. He _had_ won the wager with Ivon over whether it’d be a son or a daughter, though.

“I should probably thank you for that, although I suppose you did not have much say in the matter.” He gave his young charge an appraising glance. “You spared me from paying for the drinks; I rescued you today. How about we call it even?”

Baby Carrot smiled, although perhaps a little uncertainly. Emboldened, Gunther gave her a wink, for which he was awarded with a giggle. Grinning himself, Gunther used part of the tunic to wipe the mud from her hair as he stepped through the castle gate.

He looked up at the sound of running footsteps, and blinked in surprise as Jane, Smithy, and Rake came to a sudden stop a few meters away. They stood, mouths agape, and stared at the unusual sight before them.

Gunther supposed they did look a sorry sight. Feeling suddenly self-conscious about his half-naked, mud-caked appearance, he tried to hide his insecurities behind a smirk.

“I found Baby Turnip,” he said, as though it were the least important thing in the world, and began holding her out.

There was a glad cry, and the trio of startled spectators was suddenly parted by Pepper, who shoved her way through, followed by Jester, who was beseeching her to remain calm. His pleas soon died in his throat as a grateful Pepper, instead of taking her child, cradled the baby between herself and Gunther with one arm, and wrapped the other around him.

“Thank you, Gunther. Thank you!”

She didn’t seem to notice that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, or that mud was dripping from his hair and down her back, but she did notice when he suddenly hissed, and drew back immediately. 

“What is the matter?” she asked him, and Gunther was embarrassed to realise there were tears in her eyes.

“It is nothing, really, just a scratch. But Carrot is soaked . . . .” He passed the baby to her mother, who inspected her quickly.

Pepper nodded, and, cooing softly at her child, began walking back towards her kitchen. She paused beside her husband and Smithy, and fixed them both with a firm gaze. 

“Bring him to the kitchen,” she told them.

Smithy nodded and made his way to Gunther’s side, followed by Rake after the gardener had ensured that his daughter was okay.

Gunther fell into step between them, suddenly too tired to argue as they made their way through the gardens, led by Jester and Jane, who was desperately trying to avoid looking at her shirtless comrade.

Glancing up at Rake as he walked beside him, Gunther couldn’t help noticing that he still looked slightly miserable. With a weary smile, Gunther reached up and patted the young father on the back.

“She is certainly a handful,” he told the startled gardener. “I suppose I could help you watch her occasionally, when the next one comes along. Only if my duties permit, of course.” He added hurriedly, as Rake’s mouth dropped open. 

One of Carrot’s giggles drifted back to him, and Gunther wondered if he’d regret his offer. He smiled anyway.


End file.
